


Happy Ending, My Ass

by followyourenergy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time Having Sex, Character Growth, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Hope vs. Despair, Hopefulness, Jokes In Poor Taste, Love Confessions, M/M, Making your own destiny, Mental Health Issues, Resurrection, Sam Winchester Needs Brain Bleach, Self-Worth Issues, Subverting a supposed destiny, Temporary Character Death, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27860133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followyourenergy/pseuds/followyourenergy
Summary: Happy ending, my ass, Dean thought. He ended up in Heaven, but it wasn’t any better than his crappy life on Earth. Cas, who apparently was pulled out of the Empty and remade Heaven just for him, didn’t even greet him when he arrived.But all roads, it seemed, led to Cas, and when they met again, they both had some things to say and wrongs to right.And when they did, Dean found that maybe a truly happy ending was possible for him after all.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 192
Kudos: 767
Collections: The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t going to write this, my friends. I already wrote Paradise Is in Our Hands, about Cas’ rescue from the Empty, as well as some other stories about how the series could’ve ended, and I was happy with those. 
> 
> But then I read a take about how Dean was better off dying in the finale because he wouldn’t have been able to “get over” his trauma and make a happy life on Earth (I’m paraphrasing, but that was the gist) and... no. That’s such a hopeless, invalidating message, and I felt like that was validated by the episode (intended or not). So I fixed it. 😊
> 
> If you have concerns about the content, please let me know and I’ll be happy to chat with you about it!
> 
> Many thanks to WaywardJenn and EllenofOz for reading this and providing feedback. ❤️
> 
> Also, the first chapter has no smut and is a complete story in itself, so you’re welcome to stop there if you’d rather not read the sex and snuggles in chapter two. 🥰
> 
> Love you all! 💙💚💙💚💙💚

“This is supposed to be your happy ending, Dean. Your peace.”

Dean scoffed at Bobby as he glanced around him. No, his happy ending was supposed to be breaking free of Chuck, saving the world, saving Cas somehow, and living...well, if not an apple pie life, a decent, _long_ one, enjoying all the things he couldn’t while running in Chuck’s hamster wheel. But he didn’t say any of that. “Happy ending. Getting offed by a nail while fighting a bunch of vamps who thought it was Halloween. Great.”

“Not that part, ya idjit. This part. Heaven.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, well, surprised I made it here, honestly.”

“There’d be no way you wouldn’t, Dean.”

He had to disagree with that one. He’d killed and he’d gotten people killed. A lot. And even if it was done for love, as Cas said, the fact was that he did it. 

_Cas._ The guilt about...well, _everything_ ate him up. For a while, he drank openly. Then he shoved it down to save the world. Then he shoved it down to save _himself_. He pretended he was better than he was, pretended everything was fine, pretended he wasn’t drinking, pretended it didn’t affect him anymore, that Cas and Jack were simply two more people in a long line of people they’d had to say goodbye to. Even when Sam wanted to talk about them, when he said he missed them, Dean brushed him off with some trite bullshit about moving on.

The truth, though, was that he hadn’t moved on. 

Maybe that’s why he ended up with a thick-ass nail in his back. Maybe that wasn’t just destiny...maybe, somewhere in his mind, he wanted it to happen. And maybe that’s why he told Sam he was ready to go. Because he was. 

His happy ending—the ending he fought so hard for, fought the ultimate deity for—was a joke. Nothing changed, not really. Yes, he got a dog. Yes, some days he slept in. But he still hunted, still put his ass on the line for everyone else with no real reward other than the feel-good “hey I helped someone” bullshit he’d accepted as the only thing he got to have for most of his life. Even that job he applied for, that stab at normalcy, was something he knew he’d fail. He’d wanted to try, though. For himself and for Cas, who gave up everything for love.

For loving him.

Living without Cas...it hurt. Each time hurt more than the last, and this one had been the worst, knowing what he knew and not being able to even answer him, to assure him that he loved him, to tell him that when they were done ganking God’s ass that he could have what he wanted, because fuck it, it was their turn to have something good and life was short.

Life was too short.

Dean shook himself out of his thoughts. He didn’t know he’d still have regrets in heaven. He thought those disappeared in paradise. Guess not. _Great._

 _Well, time to get this heaven shit going, I suppose_. 

“So, uh, do I walk through that door to get to my heaven? Is the Roadhouse my heaven? Not that it’s not nice an’ all, but I kinda expected a little more. Nice touch to have you here to greet me, though. My own little guardian angel to bring me home.” He smirked at Bobby, feeling at least a bit better for being able to see his old friend and family member.

Bobby scoffed. “Boy, this is only the beginning of your heaven. Heaven’s endless now.”

Dean raised a brow, waiting for an explanation.

“See, Jack fixed heaven for us all. Thought it wasn’t right that everyone was separated, livin’ in memories. So he remade the whole thing. You can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, see whoever you want. Everyone’s around, and anyone you wanna see, Dean, you can. All you gotta do is think of ’em. I tell ya, it’s a great thing, what he did.”

It _was_ a great thing. Seemed like the young, ambitious upstart was shaking things up as the new God. Maybe he was taking a hands-off approach on Earth, but rewarding humans when all their soul-searching and hard living was done seemed like a fair trade. Pride swelled in Dean’s chest. “Jack did all that?”

Bobby nodded.

A pang of regret seized his no-longer-needed heart. He wished Cas could’ve seen it. He would’ve been so proud.

“Cas helped.”

Dean’s not sure what surprised him more—that his friend seemed to read his mind or that Cas made it out of the Empty. “He what?”

“Guess you didn’t get the newsletter.”

He ignored the sarcasm in the remark because _Cas helped. Cas was okay._ “He made it out?”

“He did. Jack yanked him out of that Empty place.”

The swell of pride became a full-on tsunami. Jack didn’t have to do that. He could’ve restructured heaven all by himself and not broken his own non-interference rule. But he knew, deep down, that the kid could do the right thing, and he proved that by saving the one who sacrificed his own life to save him. _Damn_ , that was awesome. 

“And word is, Castiel took on your heaven as his special project.”

Dean looked around. There was the Roadhouse, of course, but there was Baby, too. His loved ones were all just a thought away, all happy, and he had the trees and the sky and everything he loved about Earth. It was perfect.

Except.

“Where is he?”

“He’ll be along.”

Dean nodded, not quite sure what to do with that.

“Buncha people are inside waitin’ for ya.” He thumbed to the bar behind him. 

Torn, Dean glanced at the door. Yes, he wanted to see everyone, but he had forever, didn’t he? And really, there was only one person he wanted to see right now. Everyone else could wait. “He comin’ around soon, you think?”

Bobby shrugged. “Soon is relative. I reckon you can find him easy enough, though, if that’s what you wanna do. All of us, we got eternity to wait for ya, and none of us are in a rush. So, what’re you gonna do?”

Glancing at Baby, he smiled. “I’m going for a ride.”

* * *

He drove for what seemed like both a long time and no time at all, Baby knowing exactly where she was going even if he didn’t. The weather was perfect, the view was spectacular, the music was loud. Everything was...heavenly. 

So his steadily rising anger was surprising to him. And yet...not so much. Anger was what he did. He didn’t expect it in heaven, though. He thought heaven was eternal happiness. It should be, after the shit he went through on Earth. 

Baby brought him to the ocean. It was turbulent, dark, cold—like his mood. He slammed Baby’s door behind him as he stomped toward the figure in the same dumpy trench coat he wore on Earth. After everything—all the times he lost him, all the joy in his returns, all the fights and agony and grieving and saving and confessions and aching, so much _aching_ and _regret_ —all he could do was yell. 

“Why weren’t you there?”

“ _You_ weren’t supposed to be there,” Cas volleyed back. 

“Yeah, well, I was and you weren’t. Where were you?”

“Here.”

“Here.” Dean kicked at the grainy earth. “So, what, I had to work to find you? Was this some sort of ‘new guy initiation into heaven’ crap?”

“Not at all,” Cas assured him with a small, sad smile. “I led you here because we need to talk. Alone.”

The conversation reminded Dean of when they first met, when he wanted Dean to be Michael’s vessel. That wasn’t the case anymore, so the thought quickly turned into what _else_ Cas might want to talk to him about privately. “Oh,” he said, his breathy voice betraying his nerves. 

“Sit.”

Dean sat on the cold, too-firm shore. Cas sat across from him, keeping a respectful distance that didn’t feel at all right. He bit his lip as he waited for the “so you know my feelings, what are _your_ feelings” talk that they needed to have, that he _wanted_ to have even if it felt... _wrong_ , somehow, to have it right now.

“This is your mind,” Cas said instead.

“Huh?”

“The darkness, the wind, the current. Heaven is supposed to be a place of peace and joy. So...what’s on your mind, Dean?”

 _So we’re not having that talk_. He was equally relieved and disappointed. “I’m fine. Great.”

Cas rolled his eyes and snorted. “Yes, you are fond of saying that. We both know it’s not true.”

Dean dug his boot-clad feet in the sand, burying his toes. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come to you when you’re ready.”

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity (though he couldn’t really use that phrase now, he supposed) as the wind whipped around them, chilling Dean to the bone. The dampness in the air made his muscles and joints ache, and the dark sky crushed his spirit like a vise. He wanted to escape. Yet it felt like there was no escape, like every road would lead him here. What a shitty heaven—it wasn’t all that different from Earth, it turned out. _Happy ending, my ass._

Finally, he said the first words that came to mind.

“I got nailed by a nail, Cas,” he growls through clenched teeth. “Years of hunting and a fuckin’ _nail_ did me in.”

“It was rebar.”

“Oh, well, thank you for clearing that up,” he snarked. “I didn’t exactly have the best viewpoint of it.”

Cas nodded in acknowledgement. Dean huffed.

“It was just so _stupid_. Why the hell was it even sticking out like that? And the case, man, it was ridiculous. Vampire mimes, I swear, they were just...it was like some shitty, campy, cosmic joke, one last _fuck you_ from Chuck, like there was some hidden epilogue to his story or something, and I just…” 

He scrubbed his face, but he couldn’t stop the tears. 

“May I ask you a question?” Cas asked in that gentle regard he had when he wasn’t being blunt as hell, the one that made Dean feel heard and taken care of.

“What?”

“Why didn’t Sam call an ambulance?”

Dean shrugged. “Our line of work, we don’t do that. Too many questions. And I...I didn’t want him to, anyway.”

Cas glared at him. “You didn’t _want_ him to? You could’ve survived that injury, Dean.”

“What was I supposed to do?” Dean shouted. “You were gone, I couldn’t get out of hunting, stuff just replayed over and over in my head—”

“And those were reasons to die? Would you have let Sam or anyone else die if those were the reasons they gave?” 

“Well, no, I just...I was always gonna die that way, anyway, Cas, so it was for the best—”

“For who?”

Dean shrugged, dropping his gaze to Cas’ chest. 

In a softer yet no less urgent tone, Cas said, “You didn’t think it would be for the best, Dean, you just didn’t know what else to do.” He gestured around them. “Your subconscious mind is telling me what your conscious mind won’t. You’re saying it was fate, you’re saying it was for the best, but you _know_ you deserved to live and live well.” 

“I—I wasn’t managing things well—”

“So? That’s the human condition. Nobody has it all figured out and nobody ever will. Living isn’t about perfection. It’s about struggle and work and small triumphs and working your damndest every day to learn and grow and make yourself and others better. Deep down, you knew that. You just needed some help seeing it and moving in that direction. You weren’t used to living for you.”

Swallowing thickly, Dean argued, “Yeah, well, I was more damaged than most—”

“You weren’t damaged, you _experienced_ _trauma._ That doesn’t make you less deserving and it doesn’t make you fated for bad things. Dean, I told you that everything you did, you did for love. I should have told you sooner so you could see it and believe it longer, and that’s my fault, but please understand me. You made mistakes, but you weren’t destructive, you weren’t hateful, _you weren’t broken_.” 

Dean sniffled and shook his head, wanting with everything he had to believe what Cas was saying but still hearing the old voices in his head telling him that _broken_ was exactly what he was.

“You weren’t, and you’re not. You healed, you united, you cared about complete strangers, you put everyone else ahead of you, you _felt_ so deeply. I gave myself to the Empty so you’d have a chance to win and to put yourself first for once, to live for _you_ , because you deserved that. You deserved to live as your imperfect, shaken but never broken self, because you’re valid and worthy.”

The crumbling dam of Dean’s defenses broke. He heaved gasping, painful sobs, hugging his legs and rocking slightly as Cas’ words sank in and filled him. “When it...when it h-happened,” he stammered as he caught his breath, “I had this m-moment where I thought, ‘it’s always gonna be this way,’ That’s w-why I gave up. Everything hurt and I couldn’t get myself out of it. I didn’t know how. I tried to...I was looking at real jobs, I h-had a dog…” He wiped his eyes against his knees. 

“You were still fighting, even when it hurt.”

“Yeah. Fuck, I was sad, though.” 

The words surprised him, because he wasn’t generally good at using his feeling words, but everything felt easier here—maybe because it was heaven, or because it was his own mind, or because it was with Cas, or maybe a combination of all of them. 

“Sadness, struggle, trauma...those aren’t reasons to die. They are things to work through, and you were trying. You were trying to live.”

Dean nodded, a different emotion taking over as he thought about everything that got him to that very moment. It was anger—not the anger of unresolved pain, but the anger of injustice. “You know something? I’m mad, Cas. I’m—I’m pissed that I died. Chuck’s story gave me all this shit, this... _trauma_ , like you said, and once I was free to work through it, I bit it on a rookie hunt on some random piece of metal that shouldn’t’ve even been there? It’s like it was all for nothing—everything I learned, the changes I made, the sacrifices we all made. It sure as hell didn’t benefit me. I died just like I thought I would when I was twenty-six, when I thought that dying young was noble and heroic when it was really just some kind of death wish.”

He clenched his fists, blinked hard, shook his head. “It’s not fair. Why me? _Why me?_ Didn’t I go through enough shit? Didn’t I do enough? I just wanted to make the world a safer place and then get out. Toes in the sand, umbrella drinks, Hawaiian shirts. That so much to ask? Didn’t I earn that?”

Cas squeezed his shoulder. “No, it’s not and yes, you did. You deserved to live and have a good life before your afterlife.”

Dean rested his head in his hands and nodded.

“And I’d like to give it to you.”

“What?” Dean asked, confused, as he slowly looked up at Cas. 

“I want to send you back.”

Hopefulness surged in his chest, only to be squashed by doubt and fear. “Probably not a good idea. The dead should stay dead and all.”

“That’s not my experience with the Winchesters.”

Despite himself, Dean chuckled, then darkened once more. “Yeah, well, _some people_ made deals to save other people from death and it got them killed.”

“You mean the deal that got you sent to hell, where I rescued you?”

By the arched brow, Dean knew that Cas knew he was referencing the Empty deal and threw this back at him instead. Clever, really. He scowled without heat.

“Look, Dean, you don’t have to go. You can stay here in paradise. But paradise won’t be so paradisiacal without the chance to work through the injustice that was served upon you. You can do that here, certainly, but wouldn’t you rather shove an oak tree up the ass of fate and live a long life?” 

At that, Dean snickered. He’d never liked fate all that much. Rather than answer him, though, he asked, “Bobby said you took on my heaven as your special project. You tryin’ to get rid of me ‘cause I caught you with your pants down?”

“Caught me with my pants down?”

“Never mind,” Dean said, waving his hand. He forgot that phrase might not mean much to an angel. 

“If you’re asking if your heaven was ready for your arrival, the answer is yes. If you’re asking if _I_ was ready for your arrival, the answer is no.”

The wind wailed a plaintive song in Dean’s ears. “You didn’t want me here?”

“I didn’t want you here _yet_. Dean, I wanted you to live a long life. To enjoy your freedom. To live somewhere with windows. To find someone special, fall in love, start a family if you wanted one. And to know that you died on a stupid hunt...I was angry, too. Sad. I wanted you out of that life.”

Dean shifted his gaze to the gloomy horizon. “You didn’t come see me. After Jack sprang you. Why not?”

Again, though he expected something related to their last moments together— _I was embarrassed_ or some bullshit—Cas answered instead, “I wanted you to live your life, and I thought I might be an impediment to that.”

“An impediment?” He turned to Cas. “The hell do you mean, an impediment?”

“You had to live for yourself, Dean. Not for me or Sam or anyone else. I had faith that you would adjust—” 

“‘Faith that I would adjust.’ Well, great. Did you happen to peek in on me? ‘Cause I wasn’t adjusting all that well to losing my best friend. Why the hell did you get to choose that for me? Why didn’t _I_ get to choose? My father chose, then circumstances chose, then angels and demons chose, then Death, and on and on until I found out, hey, Chuck was choosing everything all along. So I finally get a choice and you don’t let me make it?”

“Dean—”

“I tried to find you. I tried everything I could to get to you. And to know that you stayed away…” He trailed off, letting his tears slip from his eyes once again. What difference did being a tough guy make anymore? There was no one left to fight but himself, and this was his own mind, after all. “You comin’ back would’ve helped a lot, you know.”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Cas admitted in a tight voice. “I wanted to with all I had.”

A thin smile spread across his face. “Good to know. But you didn’t.”

Cas sighed. “Perhaps I chose wrong. I—I didn’t realize how much my absence would hurt you.”

“Didn’t realize. Huh. Well, I guess that’s my fault. I never told you how I fell apart every time you left.”

They sat in drawn-out silence.

“So Jack got you out.”

“He emptied the Empty.”

“That’s...that’s good. So Gabriel, and your friend Benjamin—”

“The angels were returned to heaven, with a few exceptions. The demons were returned to hell.”

“Guess Rowena’s got a lot on her hands now.”

“I think she enjoys it.”

“She would. More people to boss around,” Dean chuckled. “And so when Jack was done jailbreakin’ ya, you headed here?”

“I...checked on you first. You were sleeping. I didn’t stay long, since you find it creepy to be watched while you sleep.” 

“Wouldn’t have minded this time around. The damn nightmares—”

“I did help you with those. I planted a suggestion in your mind to dream about happiness.”

Dean thought back to the only pleasant dream he remembered having in the space between Cas’ death and his own. “I slept great that night.”

“Good. I also made sure your dog was with you. I asked him to comfort you.”

Tears welled in his eyes again, which was _ridiculous_ but there it was. “I named him Miracle. He reminded me of you, actually.”

“I’m not a dog, Dean.”

“No”—he turned to Cas—“but he was there for me when I needed him. He loved me unconditionally. He...he kinda saved my life there for a while.”

Cas’ scowl softened into a smile. “Good. You deserved that comfort, that love and support. So. What do you say to finishing where you left off? Going back to Earth?”

Dean stretched his neck to stare at the sky. The clouds were thinner but still gray, and Dean knew why. “We gonna talk about it, Cas?”

“About?”

“You telling me you love me.”

He paused a beat before answering, “I wasn’t going to bring it up.”

 _He wasn’t even going to bring it up?_ “Why not?”

“It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Not relevant.” Dean took a deep breath before he shifted his gaze to Cas again. “You tell me you love me and you don’t think that’s relevant to my life?”

“It’s not relevant to the question I asked you.”

“Well, new question, then. Do you still love me?”

The answer was written in the tilt of Cas’ head, but he was still relieved when Cas answered, “Of course, Dean. That doesn’t just disappear.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay.” Cas dropped his head. “So, going back—”

“What did you want?”

His eyes flicked briefly to Dean’s before falling away again. “Want?” 

“Yeah. What was the thing you wanted that you couldn’t have?”

Cas smiled ruefully. “I think you know, Dean. All right, so back to Earth—”

Dean reached out and raised Cas’ chin until their eyes met. “Tell me anyway? Please?”

“You,” Cas sighed. “In whatever way—”

“In what way? Specifically.”

“In...every way.”

“So why didn’t you come back?”

“I didn’t want to burden you.”

“So you left me with a different burden?”

Cas gripped the sleeve of Dean’s jacket. “My sacrifice...it saved you. It saved the world. I’m sorry if my declaration hurt you—”

“It _hurt_ because you sacrificed yourself like you’re expendable, like you always do. It _hurt_ because you dying killed me, too. It _hurt_ because I didn’t get to say anything back, because you didn’t get to _know_. You died not knowing,” he finished softly. 

“Not knowing what?” he asked hesitantly, eyes lit with apprehension and, Dean thought, hopefulness.

“That I love you.” 

It was easier saying it here, in his mind, in his heaven...but even on Earth, Dean knew he would’ve said it back if he hadn’t been so stunned. It was time, far past time, and Cas deserved it. They both did. 

“I knew—” 

“That I’m _in_ love with you, Cas. That you can have me. In every way.”

His blue eyes grew wide and bright. “Dean,” Cas whispered.

“Cas,” Dean smiled, covering the hand still clutching his jacket with his own. 

They stared at each other as sunshine burst through the clouds and the ocean’s roar calmed to a gentle susurration. 

“So, do they allow kissing in this joint, or what?”

“It’s your heaven. You can do anything you want.”

Dean raised his brows rakishly. “Anything, huh?”

“ _Anything,_ Dean.”

The mere thought of _anything_ made Dean’s belly squirm in delight. “Well, guess I oughta make this heaven my own, then.”

Cas grinned. Dean cupped his cheek. They moved toward each other, both nervous but eager, too. This kiss was a long time coming. 

And it was perfect.

They met like the surf met the sand, crashing and then melting into each other. Dean crowded him, needing to be closer, _closer_ , until they fell onto the sand, their bodies undulating like the tide as they dove deeper into one another. 

He’d never felt so at one with anybody, and he was pretty sure that wasn’t some fancy effect of heaven. 

“Cas,” Dean whispered when they parted. “I want to go back. On one condition.”

“Of course,” he said, as always, but the light disappeared from his eyes.

“Come with me.”

“Come...come with you?” 

“Come with me. We’ll buy a house with lots of windows with the money in the accounts Charlie set up. We’ll take Sunday drives. We’ll go on vacations and complain about our neighbors and we’ll get Miracle a friend. We’ll get out of hunting, find other things to do, or maybe we’ll stay in but not be on the front lines. We’ll figure it out. Come on,” he cajoled him, seeing the doubt lingering on his face, “I get a chance to have the happy ending I deserve. Don’t you want one, too? If anyone deserves one, it’s you. We earned this.”

A smile hovered on Cas’ lips, but he warned, “I’m not the cure for everything that’s happened to you—”

“I know that. I got work to do, I know.” 

“It won’t be easy,” Cas cautioned with a hand over Dean’s heart. “I hope you’ll consider...talking to somebody about everything.” 

“Want me to get my head shrunk?” Dean smirked affectionately. 

A puzzled look crossed Cas’ face that made Dean truly laugh for the first time since he’d arrived in heaven. He kissed it off him, then promised him that yes, he’d find someone to talk to. “So, will you? Come with me? Stay with me? Work on that happy ending with me?”

Cas smiled widely as he thumbed Dean’s jaw. “I would love to.”

“Awesome. And hey, you play your cards right, you can have _lots_ of happy endings.”

“Is that a euphemism?”

Dean snorted in amusement. “Yeah, it’s a euphemism, buddy.”

“I hardly think you should call me ‘buddy’ anymore if you’re planning to have sexual relations with me.”

Despite the clinical words, Dean couldn’t help but get excited about the prospect of “sexual relations” with Cas. He conceded Cas’ point with a thoughtful frown and a nod. Then, because he didn’t need to be sporting wood when he came back from the dead, Dean changed the subject and asked, “So, uh, you don’t need permission from the kid to leave, do you? Not needed for major Heaven Council stuff or anything?”

“No. I can come and go freely.” 

Dean smiled, because freedom was something he’d always wanted for Cas—for both of them. And now, they’d get it. 

“Let’s get to usin’ that freedom, then.”

He took Cas’ hand as they walked back to Baby, the sun warming their faces, and he took it again as they drove to the Roadhouse.

* * *

“Your death would have had significant consequences for Sam,” Cas revealed as they reached the spot where Dean had arrived in heaven.

Dean shot him a skeptical look. “What? Why?”

“He would have...struggled.”

“What do you mean?”

Cas parted the air like a curtain and revealed a much older Sam. 

“Damn, he let himself go,” Dean muttered as he watched his brother’s life unfold like a low-budget movie made by a melodramatic film student. “Look at his hair. If he ain’t taking care of his hair, you know he’s bad off. How the hell would he have gotten like that?”

“Profound survivor’s guilt, complicated grief on top of his own lifelong emotional and physical trauma, illnesses.”

“Survivor’s guilt is a bitch.” 

“Mmm. This version of Sam has difficulty maintaining significant relationships.”

“But—but he’s so smart—”

“Intelligence has nothing to do with it.”

Watching a man tend to his aged brother, Dean asked, “Who’s that?”

“His son. Named after you.”

Dean grimaced. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, particularly when Sam seemed so...flat. “He would’ve really had a hard time.”

“If nothing changed, yes, he would have.”

“Some fuckin’ happy ending. That’s not what I wanted for him.” He turned his head away from the scene, the pain too much for him. “Why didn’t you lead with this when you suggested I go back to Earth?”

“Because I wanted you to do it for _you_ , Dean. I don’t want you to live for other people. I want you to live for yourself.”

“Like he’s gotta live for himself,” Dean murmured. “Yeah, okay, I get it. We gotta be separate people, heal ourselves, all that touchy-feely shit.” He wiped his mouth. “So, uh, you’re gonna zap me back now?”

“Yes, and I’ll be right there with you.”

“Awesome.” He looked back at the Roadhouse, where Bobby was still on the chair. Music and laughter were streaming through the open door. “Can I, uh, go see everyone first?”

Cas smiled softly. “You have free will, Dean.”

As Dean entered the Roadhouse, dragging Cas beside him, he was greeted with whoops and hollers and hugs from friends he hadn’t seen in much too long. He had a beer with Jo and a chat with Ellen and Bill. He played pool with Ash and Pam. He sang karaoke with Lee and Benny (“You guys sorted out Purgatory, too?” Dean asked, to which Cas answered yes and Dean gave him a long kiss in thanks), played games with Charlie, and had his ass handed to him by Missouri (“Boy, you didn’t tell that angel you loved him years ago?”). He shared a slice of pie with his mom. He laughed with friends he hadn’t seen in years and made amends with people he’d wronged over time. And then, he turned to Cas, who was smiling at him fondly, and said, “I’m ready.”

Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “See you on the other side.”

* * *

Dean resurrected with a gasp and, seconds later, an armful of weeping brother. 

“It’s okay, Sammy,” he soothed him. “I’m okay.”

“You were dead. _Dead_ dead. But then Cas came around, and I don’t know how _that_ happened, but he—”

“I know. It’s a long story. We’ll tell you in the car.” 

Dean patted Sam’s back, then dropped from his embrace into Cas’. He huffed in disbelief. “We did it,” he murmured against Cas’ neck. 

“We did.”

“Time to live.”

“Time to live.”

“A long time.” 

Cas leaned back and caught Dean’s eyes. “A very long time. A very good life.”

A smile he couldn’t stop spread across Dean’s face. He was alive, with Cas and Sam and all the found family they had out there, people they should really visit...tomorrow or the day after, maybe. He had a thing or two he wanted to do first. “Yeah,” he said before cupping Cas’ head and drawing him into a gentle yet hungry kiss, one that promised much more to come. 

“Uhhh...what did I miss, exactly?” Sam asked. 

“A lot,” Dean answered. He drew away slowly from Cas, then clapped Sam on the shoulder. “But none of us are gonna miss anything else. Let’s go home.”

They stood and brushed the dirt off their clothes, then staggered to the car, where they found...oh, right. The kids they rescued. 

“Allow me,” Cas said. He approached them carefully. “Hello.”

They huddled against each other. 

“I’m going to send you home, okay?”

“Just like a magician,” Dean added, understanding what Cas was about to do. 

Cas touched their foreheads and spoke to them quietly, then disappeared with a flap of wings, something Dean hadn’t heard in a long time. 

“Dean—”

“I know, just, hang on a sec.” He pulled Sam into a side-hug, but kept his eyes firmly on where Cas had disappeared. He’d left him too many times over the years, and he needed to see him return. 

“They’re home,” Cas said behind them. 

Dean turned around and flung himself at Cas, gathering him to his chest and clutching his stupid coat in his fists. 

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m home, too. I’m home,” Cas whispered in his ear. 

Dean nodded. Gulped. Felt foolish about his outburst. Hung on anyway. They clung and rocked together until Dean felt assured. 

Cas kissed his cheek. “Ready to start that long life?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” He turned to Sam as they walked toward the car. “You wanna drive?”

“Considering I just fought vampires, saw you die horrifically, and then saw you _and_ Cas come back to life and _make out_? I think I’m good.”

“Jeez, dramatic.”

“Dean. Sam has been through a lot.”

Recognizing that his usual approach to trauma—dark humor—wasn’t going to fly this time around, he backed off. “Yeah, sorry, man. I’ll drive.” 

He opened the door and was attacked by a mess of golden fluff. 

“Hey, buddy!” Dean cooed to Miracle, kneeling so he could give him a proper scratching. “Cas, come down here.” He tugged at Cas’ coat until he took a knee beside him. “Cas, this is Miracle. Miracle, this is Cas, that nerdy guy I told you all about.”

Dean felt Cas’ glare, but he greeted the dog with, “A pleasure to meet you formally, Miracle.”

The dog took a liking to Cas right away, even sitting with him when they all piled into Baby in their usual spots. He was glad Miracle was back there keeping Cas company, though Dean sort of wanted Cas in front with him. Holding his hand back in heaven had been...well, heavenly, to be sappy about it. He settled for flicking his gaze to him in the rearview mirror every few minutes as he told Sam the overview of what happened while he was dead. Every time, Cas was looking back with a soft smile that he returned. It felt nice to smile. He hoped he could do it more often now.

“So, okay, you were in heaven but chose to come back?” Sam asked when Dean was finished. “Why?”

“Because I deserved to live out my life my way. I get that now.”

Sam pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, you do, Dean.”

“Plus, you ended up with horrible hair, and I couldn’t let that happen,” he grinned, unable to resist a _little_ joke.

“Dean,” Cas warned him from the backseat.

“What?”

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked.

Dean flicked his eyes from Cas to his brother. “Got a glimpse of your future, Ebenezer Scrooge style,” he explained, “and it wasn’t pretty. Dude, can’t believe you’d name your kid after me.”

“What?”

“Dean.”

“I had a kid? Was I married?”

“Dunno. You had a girl, couldn’t tell anything about her though…”

“ _Dean_.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed at Cas’ scolding. “No more talking about Sam’s sad future.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I make jokes about getting nailed?”

“ _No_ ,” Sam and Cas groused together.

“So I can’t say that when I said I wanted to get nailed, that’s not what I meant?”

“Jesus,” Sam muttered while Cas rolled his eyes so hard, his entire body followed.

“What? Too soon?”

“It will _always_ be too soon.”

“Okay, Sam, sorry.” Dean grew quiet for a moment, then added, “Can I at least say I plan to get a proper nailing when we get home?”

Sam made gagging noises. Cas side-eyed him with reluctant amusement and no small amount of heat. Dean grinned, winking at Cas before he focused on the road once more.

Grossing out his brother, making eyes with his angel...it’s only the beginning of a long life. 

Maybe there are happy endings after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe in happy endings. I hope you have all the happy endings you deserve in your life. ❤️
> 
> If you want to read about the first (of many, I’m sure) sexy times for our favorite couple, read on!


	2. Bonus: A Different Sort of Happy Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all about their awkwardly charming and heartfelt foray into their first sexual experience together. If that’s not your bag, turn back now. 😊

The first night they slept together was in a tiny bed in Lafayette. Dean had wanted to make the entire trip in one go, but dying and coming back to life did a number on a guy. He barely got the chance to enjoy seeing Cas by his side before he fell asleep, though, and both Cas and Sam were up and about by the time he woke up, precluding any sort of lazing around Dean might’ve wanted to indulge in. (Cuddling, okay? He wanted to cuddle.) They were on the road for twelve hours the next day and Dean collapsed into bed when they got to the bunker, exhaustion once again winning out. When he woke, only Miracle was by his side. He frowned. Clearly he had to teach Cas a few things about being in a relationship—not that he had a _lot_ of experience, but he knew the pleasure of holding someone close, sharing body heat and languid kisses... caresses along the curve of a perfect hip... the scents of cotton and warm skin…

Dean stumbled out of bed before his thoughts carried into awkward boner territory. He slipped some fleece pants and a t-shirt on, then went in search of Cas and coffee.

He found them both in the kitchen, along with Sam, who was talking animatedly about some undoubtedly brainy thing, given his goofy-ass smile and the book he was holding. 

“Bit early for Nerdfest, isn’t it?” 

He didn’t get the reaction he wanted out of his brilliant joke, but he did get coffee and a kiss from Cas, so he still came out ahead. 

The talk of the morning was shapeshifter lore, apparently, which did not go well with coffee but did remind him that he had to reach out to that shapeshifter therapist to see what she might be able to do for him. Ordinarily he wouldn’t mix business with his personal crap, but there weren’t too many therapists out there who would listen to what he was saying and _not_ lock him in a ward with padded walls. 

“So I’m gonna take care of it with Eileen,” Sam announced.

“You’re going on a hunt? After everything?”

“She asked me to help. I figured I’d take her on a date after and we’d talk about things. You know.”

“Oh, I know,” Dean nodded with a suggestive smirk. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “And I know what’s going to go on here, and I don’t want to be here for it.”

“Not without your fancy noise-cancelling headphones,” Dean retorted with a wiggle of his brows, though a tingly heat spread across his face and neck. He peeked at Cas, who was smiling down at his hands. 

“Yeah, well, you kids have fun.” 

“Oh, we will.”

“And don’t tell me about it.”

“Oh, we will.”

“Dean,” he sighed, exasperated, before he dropped the book on the table and fetched a second cup of coffee, apparently deciding he needed it to deal with his older brother. _Mission accomplished_ , Dean thought with a proud little smile.

Sam left just after breakfast, and while Dean could have jumped his...boyfriend?...right then and there, he waited because he was a _gentleman_. Instead, they drank more coffee, did some laundry and dishes, and took Miracle for a long walk. It felt a little like playing house, but it was nice. Really nice. A hell of a lot nicer than it was with Sam, who wasn’t as pretty to look at, didn’t roll his eyes _affectionately_ at Dean’s jokes, and who he definitely did _not_ , in _any_ universe, want to have sex with.

Dean ate some lunch (and Cas stole a fry or two), then they settled onto Dean’s bed to watch movies. He figured they’d be naked before the opening credits ended, but Cas never made a move...and neither did Dean. Instead, he held his hand like he’d always wanted to when they watched movies, and he leaned his head on his, and he allowed himself to enjoy the sort of intimacy he never thought he’d live to have. Hell, he _didn’t_ live to have.

“Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for…” He paused. What did he want to say? _Thanks for believing in me? Sure, but ugh, gross. Thanks for loving me? Seems a little sentimental to say while we’re watching_ Young Guns _. Thanks for thinking I was worthy enough to come back to this godforsaken planet I wasn’t actually ready to leave yet and oh thanks for coming with me even though you could be doing big heavenly things? He probably wouldn’t like that. Thanks for—_

“Dean?”

Cas’ eyes were big and blue and open to whatever Dean wanted to say. _He’d wait forever_ , Dean thought. He cupped Cas’ jaw, fitting his fingers around his ear. “Just...thanks,” he said, knowing Cas would understand because he knew him better than Dean knew himself.

“You’re welcome,” Cas replied with that sincere, piercing gaze that told Dean he did.

Their lips met softly, a brief press meant only to comfort and connect. Its beauty was in its simplicity, in its uncomplicated meaning and unquestionable feeling. They’d fought hard to have kisses like this, kisses they could have thousands of times if they wanted to, kisses they _should_ have thousands of times because they earned the chance to have them and their love was the hardest-won of all.

They smiled at each other, then went back to the movie.

Miracle insisted on another walk after the movie, so they appeased him and added some stick-throwing for some extra fun until it grew dark. When they returned home and the dog sacked out in his very own memory foam dog bed on the floor of Dean’s room, Dean turned to Cas, who was watching him with an inscrutable look. 

He grew inexplicably, absurdly nervous. 

“Um, I’m gonna hit the showers, and uh, yeah.” 

And no, he didn’t _run_ to the bathroom, but he did walk at a rapid clip.

“What the hell’s wrong with me?” he muttered to himself as he let the water needle his face. “Act like you’ve never had sex before, Jesus. Get it together.”

He ran a bar of soap over his body and used Sam’s fancy shampoo that was supposed to smell like kelp or be made of kelp or something before wrenching the handle down to turn the water off. He dried himself with a rough towel, then tucked it around him and brushed his teeth. Rolling his shoulders, he looked at himself in the mirror. He nodded in determination. _Let’s do this._

Cas was in the library, reading ( _was he destined to be surrounded by nerds?_ ). Dean cleared his throat. Cas looked up, waiting patiently. _Always waiting. Happy in the being._

He held out his hand.

Cas took it.

Dean led him to his room—their room now, he supposed—and slipped his hands onto Cas’ hips. “You want this, Cas?” he rumbled. He didn’t define what “this” was, but Cas said “Yes” anyway because of course he would. Of course _they_ would. Dean would always answer “Yes” to Cas, too. _Yes_. _Yes. Yes. No more self-denial, no more putting things off._

They kissed.

Slowly, Dean slipped the coat off Cas’ shoulders, followed by his suit jacket. He took his time with the buttons of Cas’ shirt, biting and tugging at Cas’ bottom lip with every one he popped loose. Cas watched him through hazy eyes. He allowed Dean to play with him, giving himself over to Dean’s whims. Knowing that Cas, this wavelength of celestial intent with the power to recreate heaven and raised his ass from Perdition, chose to surrender, to entrust his entire self to Dean, was a feeling more potent than the strongest drug. He craved it. _Him. Now._

Buttons suddenly became expendable.

Cas noticed the shift in mood and matched his energy, kiss after hard, desperate kiss. He zapped his clothes into whatever time-space closet he got his wardrobe from and hooked the towel around Dean’s waist with his thumbs, dropping it to the floor hastily. 

Dean walked him backwards to the bed, where Cas fell onto his back and Dean followed. He nipped Cas' jawline, his neck, his collarbone. He sucked at his nipples and his fingers, moaning when Cas used his wet fingertips to massage Dean’s nipples into hard nubs. When the desire burned too hot, their mouths joined again, tongues tangling in a sloppy, fervid dance. It was so much, so much and—

Their cocks brushed.

And once he heard Cas’ deep hum in response, Dean couldn’t wait for it to happen again. 

He lowered his pelvis closer to Cas’ and rolled his hips once, twice, three times, drawing sweet, heady moans from his lover. He had no reservations about showing his appreciation, his deep kisses, bruising grip, and flawless, synchronized rhythm speaking for him when his voice trailed away on shaky gasps. 

They were both hurtling toward an end that was very, very close. They didn’t have much time. His mind raced. They needed a condom...or did they? They shouldn’t; he’s an angel. Lube, though, that they needed, and to figure out who was going where, and…

And then he realized that they _did_ have time, lots of it, because this wasn’t an ordinary fuck. This was Cas. Dean’s ordinary was about survival, about meeting basic needs. Cas was about thriving, about meeting not just needs, but wants and dreams. He would be here. They didn’t have to rush.

He stopped.

Cas gazed at him, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. “Yes?” he asked slowly, expectantly.

“Um, can we...I mean I...can we just…” 

He’d lost the words that were on the tip of his tongue. Or maybe it was only feelings that had been on his tongue, the words unable or unwilling to make an appearance, if they were ever there at all.

Still, Cas seemed to know. He gently pressed Dean backwards with a hand on his chest until he could sit up. He rested against the pillows, still propped up from movie watching, and invited Dean to straddle his hips. He combed his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I love you,” he murmured.

 _Ah, maybe_ **_those_ ** _were the words he’d lost._ Dean rarely said them, both preferring to demonstrate his love through action and to protect his tender heart from rejection (though he’d laugh or outright dismiss that second reason if asked), and they felt even harder to say on Earth than in heaven. But with Cas, he felt understood and accepted. They’d been through it all, and they were still here. Bloodied. Tired. Real. Together. Willing to put in the work. “I love you, too, Cas.”

Dean leaned over and grabbed the lube from the drawer, then slicked them both up. He wrapped his hand around Cas’ cock and his own. Cas’ hand joined his without urging. Dean pressed their foreheads together. “I’m not always gonna be good at this.” 

That was probably an understatement.

Cas’ free hand caressed his cheek. “And I will still love you.” 

That, too, was probably an understatement, because Cas, _his_ Cas, rebelled, saved the world, cared about the world...for love. For him.

It was still overwhelming, but Dean was working on it.

They said everything else they needed to with their eyes, their mouths, and their hands, until they could speak no more. They peaked, Cas first and, upon seeing Cas’ ecstasy at his hands, Dean following.

They rested in each other’s embrace.

“Now this is a happy ending,” Dean mumbled against Cas’ neck. He pressed a kiss under his ear. 

“Very. And I do believe the first of many. Or at least that’s what you implied when you asked me to come back with you.”

Dean snickered, a happy, bubbly thing that could almost be a giggle if Dean Winchester giggled. “I meant it, too.”

“Good.” 

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, haven’t done _everything_ , though.”

“So some endings will be happy _surprise_ endings.”

Now Dean Winchester giggled. A manly giggle, of course. “Yeah.”

Cas turned and pecked the top of his head. “We’ll learn together. And we’ll have more happy surprise endings in heaven, as well, if you like.”

“Always up for a little cloud seeding,” he teased. “But hey, we’re gonna have a long life down here. Guessin’ there won’t be many surprises up there.”

“Well, there are a _few_ things we can’t do down here.”

Dean sat up to look at Cas properly. “Such as?”

“Interact with my true form, for example.”

“Isn’t your true form kinda...big? Like Chrysler Building big?”

Cas smirked. “It’s heaven, Dean. Just as I’m not restricted to a vessel in heaven, neither are you.”

His eyebrows climbed up his forehead as he considered the (very positive, very hot) possibilities. And then… “Wait, we could’ve done that before we left?”

“Of course. It’s your heaven. We could’ve done anything you wanted.”

“Damn it!” he cried, chuckling as he shook his fists. “You should’ve _told_ me that!”

“If I’d told you all the ways we could join together, you never would have left.” He smiled, clearly teasing. 

Dean shook his head in faux scorn as he crowded against him, kissing his smile right off as he ignored the mess between...oh. “Pros of havin’ an angel boyfriend,” he said with an approving nod as he surveyed their now-clean bodies.

“I dare say you’ll find a few advantages.”

“Biggest advantage is that it’s you.” He looked up to find Cas gazing at him with wonder and love, his eyes just hinting at tears. “It’s true, but don’t tell Sammy I say this shit now. That stays between us,” he grumbled, hiding his own dampening eyes as he gathered Cas in a hug. 

“Of course.” He rubbed his back, which felt _awesome_. “Would you like me to make dinner now?”

“ _You_ know how to make dinner?”

“I have a grasp of soup and sandwiches,” he replied with a shrug.

“Deal. But first…” He felt stupid (ashamed, really), but for personal growth and happy endings and all that, he forced himself to continue, “I gotta teach you a few things about bein’ a couple. First off, you stay together after sex for a while.”

“Stay...together? I assumed we would be—”

“Nah, I mean you...couples...you’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Say—”

“Cuddle, Cas. Couples cuddle after sex. Sometimes at night or in the morning, too. ‘Specially in the mornin’,” he finished in a mumble.

“Oh. All right. Would you like to demonstrate?”

Dean cocked his head back and squinted at his boyfriend’s guileless expression. He was putting him on, he _had_ to be, but his willingness to both be there the way Dean needed him and help him save face by playing dumb only made him love him more. “Yeah, I’ll demonstrate. Come here.”

They lay together side-by-side, holding and being held.

“I believe I enjoy happy endings so far,” Cas commented after a while.

Dean smiled at his happiest ending of all. “Yeah, me too. Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for reading! Love you all. May all your endings (and beginnings) be happy ones. 💚💙💚💙💚💙


End file.
